Last Christmas
by Eileen
Summary: A mall on Black Friday is not where Dean planned to be, but Jack wanted to go Christmas shopping and this may be his last chance.


"This is a bad idea," Dean said as he held the door for Sam and the rest of their small group. "Coming to the mall on Black Friday? We'll get trampled."

"Oh, it's not so bad," said Sam. "We found a parking space right away, didn't we?"

"You mean two spaces. Don't think I didn't see the look that lady was giving me."

"Well, we won't be here that long." He turned and addressed the group. "Okay, folks, we'll meet up at the food court in an hour. That should give you plenty of time to look around. You all have your phones, in case you need anything, right?"

They all said that they did.

"Okay then! Let's go shopping!"

Dean waited for Cas, who was practically carrying Jack, to catch up with them. "Is he okay?" he whispered.

"He says he is," the angel answered, in the same hushed tone.

"We can rent a wheelchair if-"

"I can hear you, you know," Jack said. He shrugged off Cas' arm and took a few steps on his own. "See? I'm fine."

"I know you are," said Dean. "But if you get tired, or overwhelmed, or you just can't go on any further, you let us know. This is supposed to be fun."

"I just want to see everything," the boy said, looking up and around at all the lights and decorations dangling from the ceiling. "It's all so pretty."

"Where do you want to start?" Sam asked him.

"Oh, I don't know. Are there any toy stores in this mall? I want to look at the toys."

Dean consulted the stand-up directory. "There's an educational toy store at the other end of the mall. There's a Lego store, there's a pop culture store at the next intersection-"

"That one," Jack said. "We'll start there."

They didn't quite go everywhere and see everything, but they covered a good bit of the mall before Jack needed to sit down and rest.

Cas rejoined them as they sat outside the Disney store. "These people do know that Rabbi Yeshua wasn't born on December twenty-fifth, don't they?"

"They know," said Dean. "They don't care. It's kind of taken on a life of its own. Just relax and enjoy it."

The angel sat down next to Jack, who was resting with his hands on his knees and his head hanging down towards his chest. "How are you feeling?"

"'M okay."

"We can go home if you're too tired-"

"I don't want to ruin everyone else's day. I'll be fine. Gimme a few minutes."

Sam patted his shoulder. "Take as long as you like. I just need to duck in here for a second. I'll be right back. Don't come with me!" he said, when he saw Dean starting to get up.

"You're getting my present, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"Is it the Darth Vader mug? I love that Darth Vader mug!"

"You'll find out. Stay here, I'll be back."

Sam came back about ten minutes later with a large, very opaque Disney bag. "No peeking!"

"Not even an accidental glance when you're holding the bag open?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "You really are a ten-year-old in a grownup body, aren't you?"

As they walked away, Jack whispered to Sam, "Did you get him the Darth Vader mug?"

"No. Why?"

"Cause I wanted to. Can we come back and get it?"

"I suppose. Where to now?"

Jack started to answer, but erupted in a violent coughing fit instead. He kept his blood-spotted handkerchief pressed to his mouth as he struggled to catch his breath. It went on for a long time, and Sam noted that it was getting worse. A lot worse.

When Jack finally straightened up again and took a few deep breaths to prove that he could, Sam said, "Maybe we should think about heading home early. I don't think you're up to this, buddy."

"I'm fine."

"Don't you dare tell me you're fine," said Dean. "We know you're not. We want to help you, Jack, but you have to tell us what's wrong. Don't feel you have to tough it out for our sakes."

"It's not that. It's . . ."

"What?"

"Well, these people haven't had a real Christmas in a long time. I don't want to ruin it for them."

"You aren't ruining anything," said Cas. "Don't worry about what anyone else needs. You just focus on you. If you need to go, we'll take you home and come back. Do you think you need to go home?"

Jack zipped and unzipped his down jacket while he considered this. "I can maybe do one more," he said. "Then we can sit in the food court and wait for everyone else."

"If you're okay with that, fine," said Dean. "Where do you want to go next?"

"Can we go see Santa?"

Now it was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "Aren't you a little old for Santa?"

"Dean, he's fifteen months old," said Sam. "Let him see Santa if he wants. I'll even pay for one of those photo packages. We've never had pictures with Santa."

Jack beamed. "We should all be in the picture! Come on!" He eagerly led the way to the center of the mall, where Santa's Workshop was set up in all its glory.

The line was a little long, but Dean said, "Wait here. I'll be right back." When he returned, it was with a blonde girl in an elf costume who led them to the head of the line.

Sam frowned. "Dean," he began, "what did you say to these people?"

"Just . . . that the kid's not gonna see another Christmas, if he even makes this one. That he's never had a photo with Santa, and this is his last chance."

"So, basically, you lied to them."

"I might have . . . overstated the situation a bit."

"A bit?" Cas raised his eyebrows at him.

"Who cares? We get our picture with Santa, and everybody's happy. They offered to give us the twenty-five-dollar package for ten dollars."

"They offered? Really? Are you sure you didn't mention anything about us struggling for money for Christmas presents?"

"No, but that sounds great. I should remember that."

Sam gave him his bitchiest bitchface. "You are not using Jack's illness to get us anything else. I mean it, Dean."

"Okay, fine."

The mall Santa didn't look anything like the traditional Santa depicted in advertisements and popular films. He had long gray hair and a long gray beard which looked natural, round wire-rimmed glasses, and a fur-trimmed red robe which reached all the way to the floor.

"He looks like Dumbledore," Dean remarked.

"I like him," said Jack. "He looks like a fairy-tale Santa. I like fairy tales."

Santa caught sight of him and spread his arms wide. "Ho, ho, ho! And what do you want for Christmas, young man?"

Jack stepped forward until he was beside the red and white throne. "I just want my family to be okay," he said in a small voice. "I want them to be safe."

Santa frowned. "I see. Anything that will fit in a stocking?"

Jack's face lit up. "Can I have a lightsaber?"

"That's a bit more like it. All right, now, smile for the camera."

"Guys!" Jack called to them. "Get up here, we're gonna take the picture now."

Sam and Dean stepped up, but Cas stayed where he was. "C'mon, Cas," Dean urged him. "It's just one picture. For Jack."

The angel nodded. "All right. For Jack." And he took his place next to them."

"All right, now," the photographer said. "Smush together, just like that. Great! Now everybody say 'Merry Christmas!'"

"Merry Christmas!"

The moment the flash went off, Jack started coughing again. Dean and Cas led him out of the enclosure to a nearby bench, leaving Sam to deal with the business end of things.

The coughing seemed to go on forever. Dean waited and watched to see if the boy would pass out again, but thankfully he straightened up again and wiped the blood off his lips.

"I'm okay," he said.

"You're a long way from okay," said Dean, "but you're still here. As soon as Sam comes back, we're gonna go get some lunch."

"I'm not really that hungry."

"There's got to be a place there that has soup. You can manage soup, can't you?"

"I guess."

"We'll go with that, then."

Sam came back, clutching a white folder. "Came out nice," he said, handing it over. Everyone was smiling, even Cas. Dean took a look and nodded approval.

"You can frame it," Jack said. "Then you'll have something to remember me by."

"No," said Dean. "Not happening. We're gonna find a way out of this, I promise you."

"We're researching day and night," Cas added, "and I think we're getting close."

"We're here for you, Jack," Sam chimed in. "This won't be your last Christmas if we have anything to say about it. We'll fight for you all the way."

"Besides," said Dean, "it's Christmas. Miracles happen at Christmas time. If anyone deserves a miracle, kid, it's you."

Jack smiled, taking a shallow breath with his poor abused lungs. At least he knew he wasn't fighting alone. His family was by his side.

"Okay," he said. "But let's hang the picture anyway. To remind ourselves to always keep fighting. Fighting for each other."


End file.
